


Alive is how you define it

by HereticalTransience



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Heimdall knows more than he lets on, I'm the mechanic, JARVIS learned snark and sass from Tony, Loki does not do sentiment, Mechanical Animals, Memories, Starks don't cry, Tony Has Issues, Tony does not do sentiment, Tony has robot feels, Tony's robot babies, brotherly love and how to avoid it, crossing time and space, foolish mortals, manry tears, mysterious bonds, powerful enough to motivate a god, run over with the angst tank, this one is going to HURT, we all have robot feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereticalTransience/pseuds/HereticalTransience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark: Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. And sometimes sentimentalist, though getting him to admit it is like pulling teeth. If you asked him why he's kept the first robot he ever made he'd avoid the question faster then Nick Fury trying to bury one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dirty secrets. So what is Tony to do every time his out-of-date creation breaks down? And how does he handle potentially losing the closest thing he has to family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive is how you define it

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a Tony-centric story *only* read just the first chapter. Blink-and-you-missed-it FrostIron is all in the epilogue (but there will be more feels there). Rest of the notes are at the end.

“DUM-E, hand me that three-quarter inch socket, will you?”

Tony Stark was, unsurprisingly, once again working on one of his cars. Somehow the much less complicated mechanics of tuning a car's engine always served as the perfect mental gateway to develop another innovation for one of his other projects, whether that was a new function for one of his suits or a new product to be perfected and pass on to Stark Industries for the world's use. Tony himself would never refer to the act as meditative as that was too New Age-y for his taste, but he couldn't deny that the simple pleasure of working with his hands put him “in the zone.”

“Hey! DUM-E! Any day now!” he called in an irritated huff, absently brushing off a few drops of coolant that had fallen on his face. His oldest bot may have been a little slow in comparison to the others, and he wasn't exactly the most patient person in the world, but usually he'd have heard at least a chirp of acknowledgment by now..

“DUM-E? You there, pal? DUM-E?”

Tony rolled the creeper out from under the Mustang he'd been working on and sat up, looking around the garage. The robot was a few feet away, vainly trying to both move towards Tony, though it seemed as though the machine could only roll a few inches forward before it would suddenly jerk to a halt before rolling slightly backwards and trying again. It was also attempting to move its arm though the motion was more akin to flailing. Tony would have called it a spasm were he talking about a human. DUM-E's claw was also opening and closing rapidly as though it was clenching in pain.

Not wasting a moment, Tony called out,”JARVIS, scan and diagnostics NOW!” while simultaneously standing up and all but racing over to the 'bot.

“Diagnostics complete, Sir.” came the cultured voice of his AI. “There appears to be a fault in DUM-E's main movement processors which is corrupting all connecting circuits leading to a system-wide cascade failure. In addiction, I detect a breakdown in the hydraulic system as well as numerous minor mechanical issues.”

“Dammit,” Tony muttered under his breath, nervously running his hands through his hair. “JARVIS, please tell me I have some more processors on hand...”

“Sir,” the mechanical voice sounded almost apologetic, “I am afraid not. However, most of the raw components are in stock and I am more than capable of synthesizing the remaining pieces from stored information. Would you like me to begin?”

“Yeah, immediately,” replied the inventor. He shouldn't have been surprised at not having enough spare parts on hand; something on the old robot was always breaking down or in need of repair. In fact, Tony had joked about renaming DUM-E to FORD for Fix Or Repair Daily, but never with anything approaching seriousness.

He was also slightly irritated by the fact that JARVIS would first have to search deep within the project archives to access the information needed to replicate the necessary pieces (a matter of a fraction of a second for a computing system as powerful as JARVIS, but every moment wasted was one that he could be using on actively repairing his 'bot) and the synthesizing process would take some time as everything had to be made to his exacting specifications, tested, and re-tested before all the most delicate assembly would be done by him alone.

People would be surprised to learn that, among the secrets locked deep within Tony's multiple layers of labyrinthine security protocols and encryption, lay the original designs and schematics for all of his bots, but more surprised to learn that it was DUM-E's whose were locked in the deepest levels, all the way down there with the arc reactor plans, his Iron Man suits, and some of the more deadly weapons designs that even he, in his most arrogant Merchant of Death days, had been reluctant to unleash upon the world. (Of course, some vital parts of many projects could only be found in Tony's head; even the best encryption can be broken given enough time, and Tony Stark wasn't foolish enough to think otherwise though his self-created encryptions were the best in the world.)

Tony didn't do sentimental. Sentiment was simply not in the Stark nature. So when Pepper had questioned him, after a very drunk Tony had let slip the fact that he still had DUM-E's original plans kept “somewhere,” he had immediately sobered up enough to make some comment about how Justin Hammer would kill to get his hands on something as complex as one of his 'bots since it would be a thousand percent upgrade in Hammer's current technological abilities and hey, let's open up another bottle of wine, immediately doing his best to distract her from that line of questioning.

Because Tony didn't do sentiment. Never. 

He also didn't spend a night, post-New York, that also happened to coincide with the day he completed DUM-E (and if anyone ever questioned him as to WHY he could remember that date but not, say, someone's birthday or anniversary, he'd be scrambling for an excuse), down in his garage in a state bordering on alcohol poisoning, sitting next to DUM-E with his arms around the robot and singing “Baby Mine” from _Dumbo_ while crying in a way that would embarrass a hormonal teenager. He knows most certainly did NOT spend a night like that because he had JARVIS delete all the security footage before going into JARVIS' programming and deleting the fact that any footage had been recorded and deleted, effectively wiping the entire incident out of existence. Thank god Pepper had been out of town on SI business that night. 

Therefore it wasn't sentiment that lead him to kneeling beside the still-flailing robot, and it wasn't sentiment that caused him to caress the mechanical arm (if anyone asked him he was simply attempting to prevent getting knocked unconscious by it) as if trying to reassure the machine, and it wasn't sentiment that colored his voice when next he spoke.

“Hey boy, looks like you're not doing too well right now, huh?” 

The bot ceased trying to move forward, which only served to worry Stark more; his mind was running through calculations on how quickly the robot's processors would be failing given that, for some unknown reason (NOT some soppy emotional sentimental bullshit he quickly reassured himself), they had never been upgraded to modern materials and techniques.

“Anyhow,” he coughed, “I'm going to get you fixed right up, okay? But I've gotta have you take a little nap first. Gotta get some stuff together, can't have you running around knocking things over while I'm doing that. 'Cuz you're such a klutz. How did you ever manage to knock over a table that was bolted to the floor, that's an accomplishment even for you...” Tony realized he was rambling but he couldn't stop himself. He leaned a little closer to DUM-E, his hand coming to rest on the power switch. 

The only way to halt further system degradation was a hard power off; putting the robot in recharge mode would still leave the systems running on low power, effectively allowing the cascade failure to continue. It would be like watching a loved one slip into a coma followed by an ignoble death. Not that DUM-E was alive, he was just another creation. Another machine. Another tool. And Tony's sinuses weren't suddenly getting that tight feeling that happens just before a person starts crying. Because a Stark doesn't cry. Because Tony doesn't do sentiment.

DUM-E tried to turn his optic sensor towards Tony which resulted in a feeble twitch of its arm. It managed to open and close its claw a single time and Stark thought he heard the faintest “chirp” from DUM-E's speaker.

“It's going to be all right, boy,” and oh god he voice wasn't cracking, it _wasn't_ , “I'll have you fixed up in no time and you'll be back to competing with Butterfingers and You to see who can drive me nuts first..” He trailed off, ever so gently pressing the power switch.

As he stood up he made a mental note to have JARVIS check the ceiling in the garage; the wet trails on his cheeks had to be due to a leak somewhere in the building. Couldn't have been anything else, really.

* * *

* * *

_Sixty-two hours, fourteen minutes, and forty-four seconds later..._

“All right JARVIS, run a full diagnostic and systems check.”

“AGAIN, Sir?” The AI's synthesized voice sounded almost exasperated. “I have run two already and all systems are nominal. I do not see the use in running the diagnostic one more time.”

“Just humor me, Jarv, okay?” Tony sat at a worktable in the garage, holoscreens suspended in the air around him. Music was not blaring from every speaker in the room for once, as the inventor had his full concentration on the screens, checking and re-checking every system, component, circuit, connection, and every other single part in DUM-E over and over. He was aware that no matter how perfectly everything was working before powering up the 'bot, it would only be a matter of time before something needed to be repaired or replaced. But Tony was nothing if not a mechanic at heart, and he would fix the little robot every time. Certain things held an importance beyond the sum of their parts.

The AI spoke up. “Scan complete. Mechanical systems integrity at one hundred percent. Relays at one hundred percent. Processing system at one hundred percent. Systems integration at one hundred percent. Sir, we have a green board.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony hummed absently, scrolling though the data on the screens. While he had all faith possible in JARVIS, it never hurt to check thins over just in case.

.”..Sir? Sir? SIR!”

“What the hell JARVIS, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Having been rudely shaken out of his browsing haze had left Stark somewhat angered, some nagging part of him worried that he'd missed some flaw in DUM-E's scans.

“Sir, I believe it's time to power up DUM-E. If anything at all appears to malfunction, I will notify you immediately.”

There was a long, silent pause, interrupted only by the soft breathing of the inventor and the low hum of the garage's environmental systems.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “Let's do that.”

Tony stood up from the table and walked the few steps over to where the newly restored robot was stationed, taking great care not to dislodge the thick cable that was connecting the little machine directly into JARVIS' systems.

Kneeling down next to the robot's base, Tony laid his hand over DUM-E's power switch. He did not pause like that for a minute, and he did not pray to any gods that may have been listening (the first because it was that stupid sentiment thing again and the second because he was most definitely an atheist and knowing two individuals that called themselves gods didn't change that) before taking a last deep breath and flicking the switch.

There was a reassuring (sentiment!) whirr of cooling fans and the barely perceptible tang of ozone that signals circuit boards lighting up for the first time. Stark took a step back while the pre-programed mechanical check ran, DUM-E's claw opening and closing, arm swinging and calibrating movement, rolling back and forth, the entire machine performing a kind of dance that was sporadically jerky given its limited range of movement, yet somehow graceful for such a heavy piece of machinery.

“Hey buddy, you back with me now?”

DUM-E gave a series of excited chirps, arm swinging about wildly and claw opening and closing rapidly.

Tony, grinning, turned slightly to the side. “Jarv?” he called, just loud enough to be heard over the happy sounds of the 'bot.

“All DUM-E's systems are fully functioning, Sir. I can detect no errors. It appears that one of your favorite menaces is back in working order.”

“Sass, JARVIS, I take note. And I'm the only one allowed to call him a menace.”

“As you say, Sir.” The AI didn't sound offended in the least. In fact, if Tony was any judge (and he should be, he's the one that created the AI), JARVIS sounded relieved to have DUM-E back.

“DUM-E! DUM-E, settle down a minute, will you?” Tony knelt next to the robot again. “Let's get this leash of you, yeah? Then you can go play.” 

It hadn't escaped Stark's attention that both You and Butterfingers had wheeled themselves over as soon as DUM-E's mechanical check had completed. He carefully unplugged the hardline from the 'bot's base, and tossed it haphazardly out of the way before rising to his feet and taking a step back. 

The three robots converged, making numerous noises. Of course they had some programming that allowed them to interact with each other, but it was mostly centered around identification and tracking so that they knew which one was being addressed and to keep them from running into each other, as well as trading information about tasks if one needed to replace another or they needed to work together. However, the cacophony of sound arising from the group could only be described as a full-on conversation.

Tony watched them interfacing with each other for some minutes, a bemused smile making some of the tiredness lift from his face. Speaking of tired...

As if reading his mind, JARVIS choose that moment to speak up.

“Sir, seeing as you have neither slept or had any sustenance for over two and a half days, perhaps it is time for both?”

“Wow, that long?”

“You do have a habit of getting caught up on your work.”

“Yeah,” he said, watching the robots chasing each other around the open floor space of the garage. “I guess I do.”

“Shall I take the liberty of ordering your usual, Sir?”

“Sounds good, Jarv. And run me a shower while you're at it.”

“Very good, Sir. I shall keep an eye on them while you refresh yourself.”

“JARVIS, where would I be without you?”

“In jail, most likely, Sir.”

Tony just laughed before calling out to the 'bots to behave themselves and walking out of the garage. He had his trusty AI to watch over things, food on the way, and a hot shower waiting for him.

More importantly, he had his family back together.


	2. Epilogue

_In a very different location in space..._

Heimdall stood on the Bifrost as always, looking out into the endless sea of space, his great sword held with it's point down resting against the shimmering surface of the bridge, reading to be drawn the second a threat appeared. It was with an uncountable strength of will that he kept from doing so as his sensitive ears caught the soft footfalls of that person approaching. He was not currently a threat, being someone that would not have bothered to make his presence known if he intended to cause some incident, but the ever-vigilant watcher had learned not to let his awareness slip even the slightest.

The slender figure stopped abreast gold-clad watchman, but an arm's length of space between them.

“Gatekeeper,” he said softly, giving the barest tilt of his head in Heimdall's direction.

“Prince,” Heimdall returned neutrally.

Both figures, silent and dark, kept their gazes trained on the panorama of stars and planets arrayed before them like precious stones on a jeweler’s black velvet display cloth. While Heimdall's gaze seemed to be focused everywhere and nowhere at once, the dark prince's vibrant eyes were locked to a single point though he currently lacked the means to be able to clearly discern the target of his attention. There was, however, (or so the Gatekeeper thought) some sort of connection or bond that called the younger prince, as he never failed so show up within a certain amount of time after the mortal Anthony Stark became distressed. Even, he remembered with a hint of amusement that he refused to let show, leaving a rather heated council meeting simply to stand on the bridge and stare in the direction of Midgard.

How or why such a thing existed bothered him not, he'd seen much stranger in his many long millennia of watching the realms. Nevertheless, it did strike him as unique that it happened between the prince and a mortal whose presence he had been in for but a few moments, a span of time less that an eye blink to the long-lived creature beside him. It was likely that the prince did not understand it either, yet found it interesting, and perhaps strong enough, to keep him returning to the broken bridge.

After some few minutes had passed, though it was a much different span of time that slipped by on the mortal realm, the dark prince sighed very softly, his breath just barely audible over the endless breeze whispering between the stars. With a final nearly non-existent nod to the watcher, the prince turned away and headed back down the bridge and into the outlying city.

Heimdall continued his vigil into space, though a tiny sliver of his awareness tracked the prince on his way back though the city and into the palace, noticing him slip unregarded through little used pathways and indirect routes. The lithe figure did not actively try to conceal himself, though most of the outward acts of violent retribution against him had quelled following a very blunt and very public statement from the heir to the throne. Which was not to say that they did not still happen, but the unwanted and unloved younger sibling had simply called on his innate ability to blend into the shadows to avoid as many of the still-zealous populace as he could.

The king-to-be also traveled the long path to the Bifrost, though less often as there were many claims on his time, to look into the stars. However, he would talk animatedly with the Gatekeeper, who kept a constant watch on a very different mortal just for him. And though he lacked the same kind of pull with Jane Foster that Loki did with Tony Stark, he never failed to eagerly search the stars in an attempt to pinpoint the tiny blue-green planet on which she lived. Heimdall would point it out to the blonde prince every time and every time Thor would forget the location, but he never, for a second, forgot his feelings for the mortal woman.

It did not occur to the watchman to question whether or not Thor knew the reason for Loki's visits to the Bifrost, he was aware that the blonde had questioned his brother several times only to be rebuked in a louder and more violent manner until he himself had casually mentioned to Thor that it was best not to continue inquiring of Loki the purpose behind his many trips to the rainbow bridge – his behavior had been coldly and formally polite, and Loki had exhibited no indications of either trickery or a desire to do anything but stare into space for some few moments here and there. At least, that's what Heimdall told Thor, but the fact that Loki had a specific purpose that was so far benign and seemingly keeping the prince from further mischief, or at least nothing more than the occasional harmless prank that couldn't truly be traced to him, was kept safe between the guardian and Loki.

For a second he considered the strange parallels between the brothers: both of them attached to mortals that had only spent a brief time with (far shorter for Loki than Thor, but Loki had always felt more deeply), both doing what they could to keep track of said mortals though great distances and even the peculiarities of the passing of time in different realms separated them, both of them driven by some greater need to connect with their mortals... And the fact that it had taken each of them finding a human, one his polar opposite and the other a man startling like himself, to finally teach them something vital about themselves. Of course, while saying so to Thor would only earn him affirmation and a closer camaraderie, mentioning it to Loki would be tantamount to pulling a bilgesnipe's tail and expecting to get away unscathed.

He was unsurprised to note that Loki had returned to his private chambers, slightly surprised to note that he had made it unmolested by anyone, including eluding Thor's concerned searching. Even Loki could not get through Asgard's palace completely unnoticed, so it was but a matter of time before he learned that his brother had returned and gone directly to his rooms. And as long as no reports of riot, war, or even a crying child were brought to his attention, he would not seek out the younger prince and demand to know if he was involved. It was not that he trusted Loki, far from it, but he had learned that not immediately blaming him for the slightest incident was more productive than endless accusations.

What truly surprised the gatekeeper was that Loki, after returning to his rooms, was humming very lightly to himself.

* * *

* * *

Loki perched on the window seat, with its unrivaled view of the palace grounds and the lands and stars beyond.

Why he felt the need to check on the foolish mortal he had yet to understand; it was as if he could feel the man's distress across the great distance. Every time he had traveled to the bridge he stayed long enough to feel the ache in his chest (centered, he noticed, in the same place as where the blue glow had emanated on the human) relent, and the immediately returned to what he was doing or, if the task at hand was boring, to his rooms.

It was to the latter that he returned this time. The pull of Anthony Stark had been far different this time from those previous, and for a fleeting moment Loki had wondered if the man was truly dying this time. Yet there was also an odd sort of... nostalgia attached to the feeling this time, as though it was something the mortal had experienced before and would again. But the pain was also sharper, deeper, and it had a bitter edge that Loki recognized all too well. It felt very muck like the all-consuming agony he still had whenever he would recall his sons...

He quickly shoved that thought away, not wanting to go into his own pains when he was still trying to fathom how and why Stark would be experiencing such. The man had no children as far as Loki was aware, the information gleaned from the Hawk's mind had not revealed any and Thor would have grandly proclaimed if any of his “SHIELD brothers” had sons or daughters. Yet the familiarity of the ache could not be denied.

Loki shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Somehow, though, he was unable to banish them completely, and he found himself first humming then softly singing a strange, beautiful, but pain-filled song that had once come through the odd connection. It had stuck with him because of the striking similarity to a lullaby Frigga used to sing to him in the distant past, usually on those occasions when he had been bullied by other children that had been invited to the palace that day.

_“Little one when you play_  
Pay no heed to what they say  
Let your eyes sparkle and shine  
Never a tear  
Baby of mine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. I couldn't resist having a bit of Loki involved (because he does what he wants and who am I to stop a god?) and my headcanon always has some connection between the two. I'm not yet sure if this mystery "bond" between them will be further explored by me in the future, but you can take this story as a stand-alone. Thanks for reading!
> 
> \- H.T.

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo there, dear reader.  
> This is not my first fanfiction, but it is the first one in the Marvel 'verse that I've finished and the first to be posted on a site as large as AO3. It's also the first I've *finished* in a very LONG time because writer's block is a royal pain in the ass. Written in one massive all-night writing binge, so hopefully there aren't too many spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. Partial inspiration is due to the lovely Batwynn for some requested fanart that reminded me of my copious amounts of feels for Tony's interactions with his bots, which I had to finally get down in writing somehow, and here's the result. I hope you enjoy. ^.^  
> \- H.T.


End file.
